


Submit

by idrilhadhafang



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftercare, Begging, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bondage, Bottom Kylo Ren, Conflicted Kylo Ren, Dirty Talk, Dominant Poe Dameron, Face-Sitting, Gentle Dom Poe Dameron, Handcuffs, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Smut, Sort Of, Submissive Kylo Ren, Top Poe Dameron, face fucking, insecure kylo ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 12:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17580755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: “They met as usual at a private hotel on neutral territory, and it was in the shelter of a private room that they carried out their fantasy.”Or in other words, Poe topping and Kylo begging because reasons.





	Submit

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Power Dynamics
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

  
They met as usual at a private hotel on neutral territory, and it was in the shelter of a private room that they carried out their fantasy. Poe was only dressed in a white shirt, a brown jacket, and long pants and boots, and yet he still was the epitome of command, right here, right now. Kylo didn’t know what it said about him that he got off on being controlled, but Stars was it wonderful when Poe did it.   
  
“Just lie down.”  
  
Kylo complied, even as Poe took the cuffs and bound his wrists to the headboard of the bed. Kylo looked up at him, at this almost angelically beautiful man kneeling over him. His nemesis at least in alignment, his lover in mind, heart and body. Commanding him, owning him completely.   
  
Kylo was practically stretched out before Poe, and he couldn’t help but feel like their roles had been switched. He could remember Poe on the rack too well, his wrists bound and shackled, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of repulsion. He’d hurt Poe the last time any one of them had been bound, and he hated himself for it.   
  
How Poe was still shining bright, how his mind hadn’t been shattered...Kylo didn’t know.   
  
“Look at me.”  
  
Kylo, gently, looked up at Poe, enough to see the Resistance Leader’s eyes burning with the utmost desire and adoration. He couldn’t look away — literally couldn’t — though he wanted to.   
  
“You’re so beautiful,” Poe murmured. “So gorgeous like this, Kylo.”  
  
Without his new mask, Kylo was all but open for Poe’s inspection — open for possible ridicule of his looks, from the too-large nose and ears he had to the scar that Rey had given him. He was hideous next to Poe’s magnificence — a face like a mule, as one student at the Academy once said.   
  
And here Poe, perhaps the most beautiful man in the galaxy, was, calling him beautiful. Or maybe he just preferred Kylo bound to the headboard, overwhelmed by desire.   
  
His shaft was already starting to rise towards his belly. Poe was atop him, practically straddling him, and he said, “I don’t know what to do next. Whether I should worship your perfect body from head to toe, or make you beg for everything I can give you.”  
  
Kylo hesitated. He was glad that they were in a private room. Imagine the reactions of the First Order and the Resistance alike if they saw Kylo underneath the leader of the Resistance, begging for him to kriff him. (He was also glad that Rey had blocked him from the bond long ago. She didn’t need to see this)  
  
And yet he needed it. Needed someone to beg for.  
  
“Please, Poe.”  
  
“Please what?”   
  
“Undress for me.” Kylo looked up at his lover with wide, soft brown eyes. “I want to see you.” Wanted that beautiful body on display for only him to see. “Please, Poe...”  
  
“That was the plan. And now...how can I resist you when you beg so prettily?”  
  
Poe pulled away his shirt, revealing an expanse of golden-bronze skin that contrasted with Kylo’s too pale and beauty-marked skin. The last time Kylo had seen Poe shirtless, he’d been eighteen and starting to realize his more sexual and romantic feelings for his best friend. Poe discarded his white shirt and dark pants, his boots, and they were naked together.   
  
Poe’s body wasn’t like how the Holonet portrayed some male bodies, but it was still the most beautiful thing Kylo had ever seen, from his sculpted shoulders to his flat, muscled upper belly to the soft, almost doughy lower belly he had. Even the sight of him — if he wasn’t currently handcuffed at the moment, Kylo knew that he would find a way to worship him.   
  
“Yeah, I know.” Poe shrugged as he spoke. “I do need to get back in shape. Might be getting older and such...”  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Kylo assured him. “If I wasn’t cuffed, I’d worship you head to toe.”  
  
“Who says you can’t?” Poe said. His voice practically became a purr in that moment as he settled over Kylo. Kylo moaned and tried to buck his hips against Poe’s, only for Poe to kiss him lightly. “Shhh, be good. Ask me, and I might let you.”  
  
 _Be good._ For Poe, in this encounter, Kylo almost would be.   
  
“Please, Poe. Let me worship you. Let me please you.”  
  
Kylo could only imagine how others would feel, hearing him begging, and was grateful that the room they were in was pretty removed.   
  
Poe nodded, then moved up him. Kylo moaned in desperation; even having that beautiful body against his was enough to make him even harder, only for Poe to kiss him again. “Be good.”  
  
Poe moved until his pecs were in full view of Kylo, golden-bronze skin and dark nipples. Kylo moaned, and how he wished he had his hands free, how he wished he could move, and yet he loved being restrained like this. Helpless, at the mercy of a beautiful man, _submissive._ And Poe wouldn’t hurt him in any way.   
  
He licked at Poe’s nipples, kissed and sucked and bit at them (lightly) and took pleasure in Poe’s moans, Poe’s murmurings of “good boy” and “so well-behaved”. He almost wanted to weep, though he didn’t know why.   
  
Poe inched closer, and Kylo’s breathing hitched. Would Poe straddle his face, have Kylo suck him off? What would he do? He felt empty — his mouth, his hole — and he wanted to give Poe pleasure so badly.   
  
“Please.” He was really begging now, feeling almost hungry for Poe’s shaft and everything Poe had to give him in their lovemaking. “I can’t bear it."  
  
It was embarrassing. He could imagine Poe ridiculing him, or turning away in disgust at Kylo’s hunger, but instead, Poe said, “You want to use your mouth on me? Suck me off?”  
  
“Yes.” Kylo couldn’t help but elaborate on it. “Use me. Use my face. I want you to use my mouth like you need your release now, I want to see your face as I pleasure you.”  
  
He swore Poe moaned softly. Then, “I don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
“You won’t. I’m _empty,_ Poe.”  
  
Poe nodded. “Just...grab me or something if I start to hurt you in any way.”  
  
Kylo moaned in frustration. “All right.” Already, he ached to taste Poe, to swallow him down like he was starving.   
  
Poe straddled his face, and Kylo’s lips wrapped around his erect cock, much to Poe’s relieved cry. Kylo moaned, almost greedily, around Poe’s cock. Poe ground down on his face, again and again, gasping and moaning, and he had his head thrown back, almost delirious with pleasure.   
  
“So good,” Poe murmured. “Please, Kylo, don’t stop. Kriffing...dreamed of you sucking my cock...”  
  
Kylo couldn’t help but preen at least a little.   
  
He could feel how Poe just sped up, grinding and moaning and filling how empty and desperate Kylo was. Kylo’s lips wrapped around his cock, tracing patterns, experimental patterns as Poe murmured about how greedy he was, and how much he loved it.   
  
Finally, he felt Poe’s thighs trembling, and heard his lover’s gasp of “Kylo...Kylo...oh, Ben, we need to stop before I come too soon.”  
  
Kylo relented. His mouth was messy and wet even as Poe said, “I want to be inside you properly when I come, love.”  
  
“I need you,” Kylo said. “Fill me up until I can’t take you. Come inside me.”  
  
Preparing took too long. It was worth it, though, when Poe slicked up his long, thin cock with lubricant and slid inside, and stars, Kylo was just so full. Full and stimulated and wanting, thinking of thoughts that weren’t hate or anger or revenge.   
  
“You’re tight,” Poe rasped. “So hot and tight. Someone hasn’t been taking care of your needs.”  
  
“I’m so full.” Kylo couldn’t help but whimper. “I...stars, you feel good. Touch me, Poe. Make me come.”  
  
Poe obliged, Kylo’s legs clenching around him as Poe thrust in time with his strokes. He was full and stimulated and moaning, and he was Supreme Leader; he took, he never received, and yet he felt so good.   
  
“Does that feel good?” Poe murmured.   
  
“Yes. Please...I need more.”  
  
Poe continued on, and Kylo could tell how much he was utterly, ridiculously in love even after all this time.   
  
“More, please more, oh yes — I have to — Poe — _Poe!”_  
  
A warmth, much like the build-up to a tidal wave built in Kylo’s belly, building and building, and it felt so good he practically shouted Poe’s name, and he didn’t care if anyone else heard it, because stars...  
  
Poe thrust into him, and how he filled him up so beautifully, until he spilled into Kylo with a moan. Poe knelt stop him, out of breath, gasping, and Kylo already felt a sort of astonishment. He was Supreme Leader. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy submitting and begging so much.   
  
Poe uncuffed him, and got off him. He moved to get dressed, and Kylo gestured towards him to lay down. Poe kissed him reassuringly. “I just need to get the bacta, sweetheart,” he said, and after such an intense orgasm, such an intense session of begging, Kylo felt a certain flutter in him at the endearment. “I’m not leaving you.”  
  
After rummaging through his kit, Poe found it. Kylo smiled from the bed. “You still have sabaac cards.”  
  
Poe smiled. “Of all the things you notice?”  
  
He moved towards the bed before smearing bacta on the places that the cuffs had dug into, just before climbing into bed with Kylo and kissing his shoulders lightly. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“I shouldn’t feel like this, but I feel good.”  
  
“I shouldn’t feel like this either.” Poe sighed as he spoke. “I was so...afraid I was hurting you, darling.”  
  
“Keep calling me that.” Kylo murmured. “Just keep calling me that.”  
  
“Darling, you mean?”  
  
“Yes.” Kylo paused. “You weren’t hurting me. I loved it.” A beat. “I don’t know what that says about me, of course.”  
  
“Well, as far as I can gather, nothing really. Some people just like being cuffed while still being in charge outside the bedroom.”  
  
That, at least, was a relief. “So there’s nothing...odd about that.” And Poe being in charge had felt so good.   
  
“No.” Poe kissed him again. It seemed Poe couldn’t get enough of doing that. “And you did so well. You’re so good, sweetheart.”  
  
“I haven’t...been good in a while.”  
  
“You were now. And you made me proud.”  
  
It was a different feeling that washed over Kylo in that moment, a feeling of warmth and belonging. Poe stroked his hair and placed kisses wherever he could — his temple, his forehead, his eyelids, and he said, “Get some rest, Kylo. You need it.”  
  
Kylo slept then, utterly nurtured with Poe’s love, wrapped in it, knowing that he was safe with his Resistance lover, and that his Resistance lover would never, ever hurt him. 


End file.
